“An invitation, Reg?”
“Yes, Syd. To a twelfth night party, tomorrow evening.”
“Twelfth night?”
“Says here that, in medieval times, the biggest party of the season was, not on New Years Day, since apparently there was some argument about whether New Years Day should be in January or March, but on the twelfth night after Christmas, celebrating the completion of the journey of the Magi to visit the Christ child. The host, who is one of our younger club members, is something of a medievalist, and thinks there’s some merit to restoring the old tradition.”
“And he doesn’t feel partied out yet? Folks can lose fortunes if they don’t stop to take a ‘work break’ every once in awhile.”
“Well, as I mentioned, he is young, and he’s trying to make a ‘splash’, as it were. As one of his party themes, he’s going to be doing the whole ‘Twelve Days of Christmas’ song, with all the gifts live and in person.”
“What? That’s not only trite but lame. Surely he’s heard of the Christmas Price Index? It’s been around for decades. And the sums involved are trivial. Even if he trots out 12 partridges in pear trees and so on and so forth, the $100K outlay isn’t going to impress anybody!”
“Even if the ten leapers are real lords?”
“What?”
“Real lords. Not your dance-troupe facsimilies like they use in the CPI. He’s gotten real Peers of the British Realm to make an appearance. You may assume that they’re not doing so gratis.”
“That impresses me only with the host’s lack of judgement. Money like that needs to be spent on congressional representatives, not on powerless figureheads of an irrelevant nation.”
“Well, those powerless figureheads are trying to make their nation less irrelevant by backing those who are adopting as many of our policies as they can.”
“And by making fools of themselves at our parties?”
“For which they pocket their fees. And if they work it right, they may not even have to pay taxes on them.”
“So will you be going to this revel?”
“Perhaps. This young man clearly has funds, and the initiative to put them to use. With a little guidance, he could prove useful.”
“Well, good luck with that. If you can’t beard him, it could be a long night.”
“Oh, I won’t be going alone.”
“What, with Jessica?”
“Alisha. Jessica was last Christmas.”
“Hope the young dudes don’t sweep this Alisha off her feet.”
“Oh, they won’t. Not if she, and they, know what’s good for them.”